Conversations With an Angel
by Rae1
Summary: Duo is left behind in a deserted churchyard with only a statue for company while he waits. In heaven, an angel learns a lesson.


Author: Rae

Title: Conversations with an Angel

Archive: Writer's Base of Operation (my site ^_^) and FF.net (eventually)

Genre: Romance and Drama. Supernatural. Fantasy.

Rating: PG-13.

Warning: AU. 1+2+1 (barely there). Definitely weird. Supernatural? Yeah. Some violence, bad language, an angsty Duo. It's not set in the GW world, but I can't really describe the world it's set in. Let's just say, it isn't theirs and it isn't ours, and call it good, shall we?

Feedback: Much appreciated, adored, and desired.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, them, or me. So there.

Note: This was inspired by a picture ("Angel with a Sword") by Stacy. She does a lot of excellent fanart for other people's fics, but I found the picture that inspired this on page 4 of her site, which holds the pics she draws basically for herself. The site is: www.shdml.net

Important Note: Due to the removal of NC-17 stuff, my lemons 'Contact at Pub in a Tub' and 'Duo in Waiting', will be moved to my new site: 'Writer's Base of Operation'. The link is http://www.baseofoperation.org

Summary: Duo has been 'abandoned' in a desolate churchyard with only the statue of an angel and the shadows of memories to keep him company, while in Heaven, an angel learns a valuable lesson.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

He glared at the statue, assessing it coldly in the gray light of dawn. The marble was old and worn. The base was cracked, some of the marble crumbling in places where whole chunks had fallen out. The wings, which he imagined had once been magnificent, were chipped and broken in many places. Even the head was damaged, with one eye completely missing and a chunk of hair gone.

The right hand was missing, the left shoulder chipped, and the blade of the sword was nearly withered away. At one point in time, the angel had probably been a site to behold, with its wings and sword, looking for the entire world as if it would still go into battle, despite it's aged appearance. 

He sat at the base, his back to the marble, and looked out at the rest of the churchyard, where gravestones stood unattended. "I tried to stop him. I yelled for Father Maxwell to come back, but I guess he didn't hear me. The other kids were crying so loud, it's no wonder. I just wish that I'd been able to catch up with them. I don't know why…shouldn't they have noticed that I'm not there yet? When are they going to come back for me?"

Duo paused, and looked up at the statue. "I can see under your skirt," he told the toga-wrapped figure. It didn't respond. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the stone. "You can go off and fight whatever war may be raging in Heaven or Hell. I'm going to sit right here and let the world go on around me. Eventually, the Father will realize his mistake and they'll be back," he said confidently.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

From Heaven, Heero looked over the edge of his cloud and glared at the little human who had disturbed his meditations. The boy was nothing more than a gangly youth, all mouth and swagger.

He shook his head and went back to concentrating.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"Where are they?" Hours later, nervousness was creeping into his voice. "Something's wrong. They should have realized that I wasn't there and come back by now. I hope they're okay," he told the statue, his violet eyes staring at the distant horizon where he'd last seen Father Maxwell and the others. They'd been so far away that he couldn't catch up, but not so far away that they couldn't have made it back to him by now.

He shifted anxiously from foot to foot, straining his ears for any sound. "Maybe they didn't want to drag all the kids back this way. They'll stop for the night and the Father will be back for me then, no problem. I just have to wait a bit longer, and he'll come for me."

He didn't sound as confident as he had the first time.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

  
"What is he doing?" Quatre asked, eyeing the human far below them with a frown.

Heero grunted, his own gaze staring pointedly at the nearest cloud and not at the human. "Probably getting ready to deface my statue."

Quatre looked at him for a moment before shrugging. The boy had been there for hours without doing anything wrong and he doubted that the boy would do any such thing, but Heero seemed disinclined to talk further.

With a sinking feeling, Quatre turned and looked at the hourglass that sat on Heero's desk. The onyx sand was pouring through at a leisurely pace, but the sand was still less than half full on the top.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"It's not fair! I didn't do anything wrong this time!" Duo yelled at the top of his lungs. He was standing on the statue's base, looking up into the angel's face. "Why aren't they coming back?"

The questions went unanswered. It had been three days since the others had left, and he'd seen no sign of anyone returning. He jumped down and stormed a short distance away, whirling around to glare accusingly at the angel, as if the statue could answer his questions. 

"They've already forgotten me, haven't they? That's what happens. I've seen it before, even though I didn't expect Father Maxwell to be like that. There were too many mouths to feed, so they had to leave one behind."

He stopped, swallowed hard, and looked away. "I would have eaten less. I would have worked. They didn't have to leave me behind. I know I'm old enough to fend for myself, but they didn't have to-" His words were broken off by a muffled sob. His eyes prickled with tears that he fought successfully. When he finally looked back up at the statue, his eyes were dry, though red-rimmed. "They didn't have to leave me."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"That's so sad," Quatre said softly. He was settled comfortably on Heero's cloud, his wings around his small body as he leaned over the edge to stare at the boy below. "He really believes that, doesn't he?"

"Hn," Heero replied. He was writing on a scroll, sitting at a desk in the middle of the large cloud, too far from the edge to be able to see to the Earth below. 

Quatre looked over his shoulder at the other angel and sighed softly, wishing that Heero would just look at the boy.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"What're you going to do, huh? God's forgotten about you the same as he's forgotten about the rest of us! You're going to stand here alone forever while everyone around you dies!" He kicked the base of the statue angrily, screaming at the stone as it remained unmoved. "You've been abandoned, don't you understand?"

He broke off and swallowed, turning his face from the statue to glare angrily at the ground. His words quieted, but didn't lessen in intensity. "You stand there, so strong and solid and certain, but you wouldn't be so strong if you were human. If you were flesh and blood, you would have weakened under the strain long ago. Having to watch the people around you die, year after year.

"I bet you were one of His best soldiers. Fighting against the legions of the Devil, swinging your sword with great might. Where did that get you, though, eh? Immortalized forever on Earth, destined to be weathered away until all that remains of you is a pile of stone. Not that you would care, mind you. Humans were made with free will and emotions, but angels were created to serve God mindlessly, no emotions of their own."

He looked back up at the gray figure, at the chipped wings splayed proudly, the single hand braced over the hilt in a stance of waiting. "What are you waiting for, huh? The end of the world? I think it's a long time in coming, my friend. The world has more suffering to endure, its children more living and dying before the circle is complete. They should have chiseled you a seat for the long wait. You're going to be around for a long time, unless someone decides that an angel in the middle of a deserted churchyard is too morbid and takes you down."

His eyes turned to the sky. "I wonder what God was thinking. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? You had to have been one of the good guys or the church wouldn't have had you placed on their ground. What great things did you do, oh Soldier of God? Not much, if your only job ends up to be watching me die. What a sad, sorry little angel you must have been."

With a sigh, he turned around and leaned on the base, a hand resting idly on the angel's left foot. "So, what shall we do today? It's been four days. They're not coming back for me. I guess I could go on, couldn't I? Find some nice, old farmer who needs a willing hand around the homestead. I could earn a couple of meals and a place to stay before moving on."

The wind picked up and whispered through the stones. "Nah, I don't really wanna do that. I got pretty soft, living at the orphanage and doing easy jobs. If I had been smart, I would have stayed on the street. At least then, I wouldn't be stuck in some abandoned graveyard with only -you- for company." 

He patted the foot. "Not that you're too bad, as far as company goes." He yawned and looked up at the sky. "Looks like rain. I'm going to get soaked again, I can tell. The roof in the church is so full of holes; I'd be just as well sleeping outside as in. Not that there's a lot of choice, mind you. At least I don't have to sleep on the muddy ground."

He stood up and moved away from the statue, then stopped and turned. "Good night," he said as an afterthought. The statue remained unmoving and silent as he walked to the church a few yards away.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"What are you looking at?" Trowa asked quietly, startling the blond as he settled beside him. Quatre smiled at the taller angel before looking back to earth. His wings fluttered anxiously. 

"Heero's human. It's going to rain and he has no place to stay dry." Trowa nodded, glancing downwards at the braided boy as he settled onto a pew to sleep. A glance back at Heero showed him polishing his sword, his back to them. 

"He'll be okay, Quatre. You know that," he said, in the same soft tone he always used. Quatre looked at him and smiled gratefully, before holding his hand and returning his attention to Duo. Trowa squeezed the small hand in his and prepared to watch.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Duo shivered and curled into a tighter ball. The rain was only a drizzle, but the distant sound of thunder threatened more, and he was already cold from the wind and damp. The floor was wet and the ceiling was groaning above him, making him worry about its stability. 

He jumped when part of the thatching on the roof fell to the floor. The storm was worsening and the whole building was creaking ominously. He glanced outside just as lighting lit up the churchyard, illuminating the angel in a brilliant flash of light before leaving everything dark again.

Making up his mind quickly, he jumped to his feet and scurried outside. The statue was slippery from the rain, but he managed to climb onto the feet. The outspread wings formed a shield from most of the rain, and he nestled between the legs, one arm wrapping around the left leg to hold him in place.

As safe from the wind and rain as it was possible to be without adequate shelter, he chuckled. "Wouldn't want you to get lonely are scared, would I, angel?"

There was a flash of lighting and a loud crash of thunder. He turned to see a tree near the church get struck. The trunk cracked in half and went crashing into the building, bringing down the walls and ceilings in the area he had just vacated.

He shivered again and squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, I still believe, God. I know that You're up there and I know You're almighty, so do You think You could do me a favor and bring the Father back to get me? I could leave on my own, but I don't know where to go, and I don't want to go alone."

The rain continued on, with no signs of letting up, and he eventually settled into a deep, dreamless sleep. He never even heard the rumble and crash as the remnants of the church gave up to the power of the storm and collapsed.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

The seventh day passed with Duo curled dejectedly at the base of the statue, his arms wrapped around his knees. His clothes were wet and muddy from a trip to a nearby stream where he had attempted to catch fish. The only thing he had managed to catch was pneumonia.

He sniffled and wiped futilely at his nose. "God, I'd just like You to know that You suck," he muttered into his hand. He coughed, the sound wracking his thin frame. It was followed by a shiver that rattled his teeth and a sneeze that made his head feel as if it were exploding.

The wind was calm, but the ground was damp, making his quest for warmth pointless. He had thought about sitting on the angel again, but he felt awkward about what seemed to him to be an intrusion. The church was out of the question. The storm that had brought the church down had also made getting near it dangerous. The ground in that area was muddy and littered with splintered wood.

His clothes were in shambles, but the only thing he had found to change into had been the remnants of a priest's black suit. He had been hesitant to exchange his own rags for such a 'holy' vestment, but with the weather and his cold worsening, he was running out of options.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he said hoarsely, his words aimed at the statue behind him. "I'm tired and I'm hungry. If I try to find work I'm likely to get laughed off the nearest farm."

He coughed again, wincing in pain as his throat burned. "Some hero you turned out to be. At least you're better to talk to than Him. Even if neither of you talk back, I can still see you. That makes it easier, I think. Odd as it may seem. You're almost human."

He started to laugh slightly at his own musings, but it ended up as yet another round of coughing. When he spoke next, his voice was extremely quiet, only decipherable to his ears and Heaven. "You may not save my life, but you're the only thing keeping my faith intact at all."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"Oh, poor Duo! Such blasphemy," Quatre said worriedly. He jumped when Heero grunted behind him. He hadn't realized that the other angel was watching behind him. He looked up and watched the stony face as blue eyes stared at the boy below. "Heero?"

"He's an idiot. If he had just started walking that first day he wouldn't be having all these problems," Heero pointed out.

"You could help-"

"No," he interrupted sharply. "No. Don't interfere, Quatre. I may respect your opinion, but your advice is not welcome in this circumstance."

"Yes, Heero," Quatre agreed meekly. Heero nodded and walked to the center of his cloud, where his desk reappeared. "But you still could," the blond whispered quietly.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"'How long will thou forget me, O Lord? For ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?'" Duo growled at the worn book in front of him and then threw it away from him. The Bible landed with a splash in a nearby mud puddle and Duo watched as it became completely submerged.

"Ha! Take your words, Almighty, and leave me naught but actions!" Duo paused mid-tirade. "Words are good. Dialogue is better. Even better than that would be a conversation. Which You will probably not grace me with, since being in Your presence would probably kill me."

He turned to the statue that had stood watch over his little scene. "And will -you- talk to me? I doubt it," he said with scorn. "I do not think God gave you the ability to speak. You are mute. Not deaf, though. You hear me. All my words; the begging, pleading, and cursing alike. You hear everything and yet do not respond because you are not able to."

He laughed dryly. "I bet that if you could speak, you would ask me to shut up, wouldn't you? Or would you ask? Are you more the type to command silence? No matter."

Slow, steady steps brought him closer to the statue, until he was standing beneath it and looking up. "You are among the ranks of the unloved. You too have been left by God to face an eternity in this bleak, boring world. No one cares about you, no one would be upset if you toppled over and broke into a thousand pieces."

Duo smirked. "You are among the ranks of the unloved." He turned around and swaggered away, his shoulders squared in a fair simulation of cockiness. "You are among the ranks of the unloved," he said for the third time, his voice carried by the wind. "And so am I."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"I'm going to cry," Quatre complained. He looked at Trowa imploringly until the green-eyed angel hugged him close. "He really has no idea, does he? How much he is loved?"

"Sometimes we don't see what's right in front of our faces until it's too late," Trowa responded quietly. He felt the blond nod against his chest and tightened his hold. "You are loved."

"As are you," Quatre whispered into his tunic.

Somewhere to their side, Heero snorted derisively. "You two are as bad as that boy."

"Have some compassion, Heero," Quatre implored, his head lifting from Trowa's chest long enough to bore a hole through Heero.

"Compassion I have. It is patience that I lack when dealing with idiots."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"Would you understand, I wonder? I doubt it," Duo shrugged off-handedly as he watched the sunrise. He was standing behind the angel, his back to the stone statue as the sun slowly made its appearance for the day.

"My parents died when I was six, so I do have some memory of them. Not a lot. All I remember about her is that she used to smell like jasmine. I'm not even sure sometimes what that smells like, but I remember my father once saying that it was his favorite scent because it was hers. Ever the romantic, my father."

The smile faded and he frowned, his eyes diverted to the ground. "At least, I think he was a romantic. I can't be too sure anymore. So many of the memories seem unreal. Like, I know that we used to live in a big house with grand rooms, but I can't remember sleeping on a real bed. You'd think I slept in one if I lived in a mini-palace like I remember, but if I did, I don't recall it at all."

He sighed and walked around the statue, his hands clasped behind his back. "It's odd, sometimes…what I remember and what I don't. I remember reading, but I can't any more. It all looks so weird, the way the symbols are placed. I used to love music, too, but I don't remember playing an instrument, and I can't sing. I wonder if my mother sang," he mused absently as he passed in front of the statue. He stopped suddenly and looked up, his eyes finding those of the angel.

"The first orphanage I went to was horrible. Filthy and dark. The Father there…he wasn't a good man. I met Solo there, but…but the Father was going to hurt one of the girls and Solo had to stop him, and then…After that, I couldn't live there any longer. I didn't want to see my best friend in everything without being able to -see- him. I was…eleven, I think. I lived there for over four years, I think."

"I found Father Maxwell by mistake. I was pick pocketing on a corner in the city, and the Father found me. He took back what I had stolen and handed it to the man I'd taken it from. Then he took me home and put me down in front of the younger kids and told me that I was now a role model and I had better act like it."

He laughed. "Two weeks later, I was back on the streets, stealing on the same corner. He found me again and took me back. Seven times I ran away, and seven times he came back to find me. Always came to find me. I thought I was loved." He stopped and clenched his jaw, his vision blurring as his eyes watered.

After several minutes, he managed to gain control of his emotions again. "I was with them when the orphanage burned down. That's where we were coming from when we stopped here. I just went to check out the stream. I couldn't have been gone for more than an hour, and yet…"

He stopped abruptly. He was alone. The statue would never respond to his chatter, the trees never spoke above an undiscernible whisper, and the only people around lay six feet under.

With a shaky breath, he walked away, his shoulders drooped as his feet kicked through the long grass.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"You have an odd perception of compassion if you feel nothing when you listen to him," Quatre said firmly, staring holes into Heero's back. The angel was standing in the middle of his cloud, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread apart in a fighting stance, his wings spread wide on either side.

"I should pity him? All he does is stand about and whine. If he hadn't shown enough brains to find the bushes by the stream, he'd be dead by now. He doesn't deserve compassion, he deserves to be hit for his self-pity and defeatist attitude."

"You're so cold, Heero. Or at least, you act so cold. Why won't you look at him? Are you so afraid of what you'll see?"

"I know what I'll see. Another silly human, wasting his time and mine in a desperate attempt to talk away the pain he feels. Remember the girl, Quatre? The one who had her father build that statue? I suffered through fifty years of her asking me to come rescue her like the hero I should have been. Half a century."

"Which isn't long at all, and we both know it!" Quatre replied, his voice taking on a keen edge of anger. "You ignored her much as you're ignoring him now, and it will do you as much good."

"Ah, but see…he won't last nearly as long as she did. You have the power to foresee, Quatre. Can you tell me that you don't know what's coming?"

"You could protect him," Quatre said softly, the fight going out of him. "You could save him if you cared."

"Ah, but I don't care. Why should I concern myself with the well-being of another useless mortal? I have more important things to deal with, besides baby-sitting that boy."

He flapped his wings and was gone in a rush of wind, leaving Quatre to stand helplessly, his face turning back to earth. "Why should you concern yourself, indeed?"

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"Hm. I kind of like days like this," Duo said happily. He was seated on the angel's right foot, his legs dangling over the base. In his lap was an assortment of berries that he had found and picked. The bush was a little ways upstream from the small pond where he had tried fishing.

The sun was shining, making him warm in the black pants and shirt he had found in the church. He had traded in the white priests' collar for his own red shirt. It had been the only thing salvageable from his own wardrobe. 

When the berries were gone, he slipped off the statue and leaned against the base, his arms crossed over his chest. "It looks like summer's almost over. The leaves are all red and brown and the nights are getting colder and longer. If I stick around much longer, I'm going to freeze to death."

It had been a month. Thirty long days that he had spent with the statue and thirty individual days that marked another day that Father Maxwell did not return for him. The pain had settled in a region of his chest where he could ignore it more easily than he could before.

"Of course, if I leave who's going to take care of you, huh?" He turned and smiled up at the statue, taking a few steps back so that he could see it better. The churchyard was cleared of most of the weeds and he had used clay from the stream to put parts of the statue back together. The angel was still missing his hand, but his sword was mostly whole and his wings were halfway mended.

"I don't think I did too bad of a job, if I say so myself." He grinned proudly at his work. It had taken him two weeks to put the yard in shape. He had plans to start clearing out the rubble from the church before winter came.

His mind refused to consider the possibility of moving on before the snow hit. In the back of his mind was the flicker of hope that Father Maxwell would come for him and if he left, he would be admitting that even that hope was almost gone.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"Heero?" Quatre called cautiously. When he didn't get an answer, he peered around the cloud that blocked his view of Heero's private space.

"Out!" Heero said sharply. Quatre almost drew back, but he caught sight of the other angel and stopped. Heero was sitting at the edge of his cloud, his wings drawn close to his back. He was watching the Earth and Quatre knew without looking over the edge himself that he was watching the boy.

"Is he okay?" the blond risked asking.

"He's fine for now. It's getting colder but the fool refused to leave," there was a hint of confusion under the censorship in his voice.

"Heero," Quatre started. The other angel raised his hand in a silent gesture for silence. 

"Please don't," Heero requested softly. His eyes never left the scene below.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

With his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, Duo stared into the flames of the small, make-shift fire he had made. His whole body was shivering in a desperate attempt to produce a warmth that continued to evade him. He was cold.

The black ensemble did nothing to help preserve heat in the gray winter air. He had tried to construct a lean-to against the remains of the building, but the first snowfall had been so heavy that the boards had broken, pouring the cold, white powder over the unsuspecting boy beneath.

Now he was trying to stay warm by a small fire he had started at the base of the angel, and his chilled body was curled between the fire and the statue.

"I don't remember snow from my childhood." He spoke softly, the words coming only when he could control the chattering of his teeth. "I don't remember snow in the first orphanage, either, but when Father Maxwell had me, I remember snow. Odd, how the memories work."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Childhood. My childhood was…what? Six years? Then the streets for a year, then the orphanage for another. Back to the streets, and then Father Maxwell. It's been…four years since he found me?"

A long pause in his one-sided conversation ensued as he coughed. By the time he was done, his throat ached, his chest and abdomen were sore, and he was laying sideways on the ground in the snow, his face scrunched tight in pain.

"Merry Christmas, my friend."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

With a snort, Heero stalked away from the edge of the cloud, past Quatre and Trowa, until he was standing far enough away that he could no longer see or hear the happenings of below. 

"Stupid, stupid fool," he muttered to himself, his fists clenched at his sides. Behind him, Quatre's head was bowed and Trowa's arms were around him, offering what comfort he could.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"I can not continue to refer to you as 'the angel'. I mean, come on! You deserve to have a name of your own. Let's see…how about…Odin? I think he was some mythical god, though don't ask me if I'm remembering that correctly or not. Not that it matters. There's no one around to correct me, right?"

Duo laughed sadly at the truth behind his words. He was curled at the feet of the statue, his arms about his knees to preserve what warmth he could. It was still cold outside, but the sun was shining and the bright light seemed to suck away the wind that normally blew.

"Okay. No parents, so you're basically an orphan like me. I'm not counting God, 'cuz I'm still kind of miffed about…" he coughed, breaking off. "Anyway. So you fought in a great war and saved many lives, but you saved someone you weren't supposed to and God kicked you out of Heaven."

He paused, rubbing the feeling back into his hands as he tried to come up with another part of his story. "You came to earth and lost your wings until you could redeem yourself. While you were down here, you saved…a boy. A lonely, loud-mouthed boy who ended up stealing the few coins you had." He smiled slightly, picturing himself as the pick-pocket.

"But he didn't get far. You caught up with him and took your money back. Instead of being mad at him and turning him in, you left him. Out of curiosity, he followed you and you let him, because maybe…just maybe, you were lonely, too." He smiled wistfully, his eyes distant as he daydreamed.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Alone on his cloud, Heero glared sullenly at the boy far below. There wasn't a bit of truth in his story, at least none that Heero would admit to. He had never been human, nor among the ranks of the 'fallen'.

His eyes softened imperceptibly as the boy fell silent, his last words ringing in the space between them. 

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Spring seemed to come early, but Duo didn't mind. He used the early thaw and bloom to clear up around the church. He managed to clear some of the wall planks and move them into a position that afforded some shelter for him. Despite the early coming of nicer weather, it was still chilly. He hadn't dared attempt to stay in the building under the heavy snow.

He used a piece of flattened metal that had once been a cross to pry nails from the broken boards. With a large, round rock, he strengthened his little corner, creating a little room out of the remnants of the church to use as a place to sleep when it rained. For the most part, however, he chose to sleep outside with the statue, often lying right on the base, at the feet.

His conversations became more an exercise in story telling as he created story after story for the angel, giving it new names as he saw fit and detailing the different lives that accompanied the names. In between, he would share the memories that he could recall.

The churchyard was never silent. When he ran out of ideas or memories, he simply described what he was doing or observing. He was hiding from the quiet by talking, but inside, he still felt the pain of his loneliness.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

"He survived the winter," Quatre observed, his voice soft. His eyes still gazed sadly downwards. In his hand was an hourglass. "Spring comes, and with it, hope."

Heero snorted, but didn't look away. They were standing side-by-side on the edge of his cloud, their attention turned to earth. "Pointless."

"Yes," Quatre agreed, moving his eyes to the hourglass in his hand. The sands were almost gone, the last ones slowly draining into the bottom.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Duo woke up to the sounds of raucous laughter and splintering wood. He jerked into a sitting position, his mind returning to years gone by when that sound would have been the law coming for the band of thieves he ran with.

His eyes found the causes of the sounds before he could give away his own position by obeying his instinct to run. In the early morning light, he could make out the forms of six men tearing apart the remains of the church.

He watched as they pulled the crosses from the fallen walls and compared their worth. He watched as they picked up and dismantled the soggy remains of the Bibles and hymnals. He watched as they set fire to the timbers and the men laughed as a bonfire raged to life.

"What's this, Marty?" Duo frowned and curled tighter into a ball as they turned in his direction.

"An angel in Hell?"

"Must be a fallen angel then," one of the others replied, laughing at his own joke. 

"We'll have to break his wings so he stays fallen," the one called Marty said. Duo watched as a giant hammer seemed to appear in his hand, and then in the hands of his five comrades.

"Touch the statue and die," Duo called threateningly, standing up on the base so that he towered over the men. The ruse only lasted for a second until one of them started snickering.

"Look! A boy, dressed as a priest and acting like a man!"

"Shut up! Go away! You've ruined the church; leave the rest of this place alone!" he called desperately, holding his arms out as if to defend the stone at his back.

"Did you notice that the flowers are all pretty, boys? It looks like the church has a new care-taker." They snickered as the one who had spoken purposely stomped the ground beneath his feet, crushing the flowers under his boots. Duo winced, seeing more of his hard work destroyed.

"Aw, isn't that sweet. Where's the rest of your family, boy? Why isn't your father out here, taking care of the grounds he keeps?"

"I don't have a father. -I- keep these grounds and I'm telling you to leave! You're not welcome!"

"Now, now, little boy. You should know that -everyone- is allowed on God's soil. You're not being a good little Christian."

"The six of you can burn in Hell for all I care. Touch this statue and die," Duo warned, his violet eyes glinting as the sun rose over the trees on the horizon. The men laughed and came closer, forming a circle around the statue.

He was outnumbered and risking his life for a worthless statue that had been forgotten by everyone but him and the men that would destroy it. "Not forgotten and not unloved," he muttered to himself. 

One of the men swung his hammer at Duo's legs. He jumped out of the way quickly and retaliated by kicking the man's head. The man fell to the ground with a groan, dropping his hammer so that he could grab his head.

Taking his only advantage, surprise, he managed to kick another in the stomach and hit a third before hands pulled him roughly from the statue and flung him several yards away. He hit the ground hard and remained stunned on the ground for several moments.

When the dots stopped appearing before his eyes, he focused his gaze on the statue just as the first swing of the hammer broke through the angel's right wing. "No!" 

He jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his head as he rushed forward and threw himself on the man swinging the hammer. The man's elbow connected with his gut, but his momentum disrupted the swing, bringing the hammer down on the base instead of the wing again.

"Looks like we have a little hellion on our hands, boys." Duo tried to bring his knee up to kick the man beneath him in the back, but another set of hands pulled him away and dangled him by the collar of his shirt. "What should we do with him?"

"Bastards!" Duo screamed. He struck out with his feet and felt them connect solidly with a stomach. The grip on his collar was released and he dropped back to the ground. He hit his head on the base of the statue and then felt his body drop to the ground.

"What a dumb kid! It's not nice to bite the hand that's holding ya, kid. Your parents should have taught you better."

With concentrated effort, Duo pushed himself to his knees. "Don't you dare touch that statue again."

"I have to admit, he's fiesty."

"He's in the way. Just kill him and let's finish. The boss wanted this place to be nothing but rubble and ashes by lunch time."

"Whatever you say, Marty." 

A kick to his ribs knocked Duo back to the ground, where he stayed this time. He felt one of the men kneel beside him and grip his head on either side in preparation to breaking his neck, but he couldn't move for the pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the snap that would end it all.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Heero crossed his arms and frowned at the latest development. The boy was about to be killed for protecting his statue.

"Are you going to do something?" Quatre asked softly. He was looking hopefully at the dark-haired angel. Heero was staring fixedly down to Earth, as if by frowning, he could answer whatever questions were running through his head.

With a tired sigh, Quatre turned and walked away. He didn't want to see the boy die. After months of watching and listening to him, he had grown fond of the little mortal. "I'm going to find Trowa."

He passed by the tiny hourglass, noting the last grains of sand as they continued to trickle through the opening.

Heero didn't reply.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Instead of breaking his neck, Duo's assailant wrapped his large hands around the boy's neck and squeezed. Duo tried to squirm away and even raised his hands to pull at the man's, but he was too weak and small. He felt the pressure in his lungs increase to a painful level as his air supply was cut off.

When his body went limp, the man released his grip and let Duo's body fall to the ground. Then he kicked the lifeless form out of his way, and the six laughed. In a fluid motion, the six raised their hammers. Before the first one struck, the statue exploded, knocking them backwards.

When the dust settled and the chunks had stopped falling, the man named Marty looked up. Standing on the marble base stood a boy, posed in the same stance as the statue they had been about to destroy. The boy's eyes were fixed on him, the irises a dark, glowing blue.

Marty gasped and scuttled backwards. So quickly that he didn't have time to react, the boy had jumped down from the statue and swung his sword in an arc. The man's lifeless body had no sooner hit the ground that the rest of the gang became fodder for the boy's weapon.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Quatre crept cautiously onto the empty cloud and looked around, surprised that Heero wasn't still impassively watching the boy. His eyes quickly moved to the hourglass, whre the last two grains of stand were held motionless at the opening between the top and the bottom. He smiled and hurried to the edge, his feathers ruffling excitedly.

~~~~~_____~~~~~

Duo gasped for breath and sat up, his hands coming up instinctively to cup his neck. He winced as his fingers came in contact with bruised flesh, but the pain didn't stop him from smiling. "I'm alive," he rasped, laughing softly.

"Of course. You expected otherwise?" a monotone voice asked. Duo whipped his head around sharply, then moved his body, more slowly, until he was facing the stranger who had spoken. 

Duo tried to open his mouth to ask just who the stranger was, but his throat constricted and he coughed instead. The stranger came closer and held out a hand. Duo looked at it hesitantly, but accepted it and let himself be pulled to his feet. "Who are you?" he finally managed to croak out.

"You do not know me?" the stranger asked, his voice uninflected. Duo studied his face, is violet eyes moving quickly over the other boy's features. It wasn't until he took a step back and looked at the other's clothes that his eyes widened in surprise and he spun back around to look at the statue.

The angel was gone and all that was left was rubble on the ground and the boy behind him. "It can't be," he said quietly, his voice shushed in wonder as he turned back to face the stranger. "Angel?"

"From all the names you have given me, that is the one you choose to call me by?" the angel asked, his voice slightly mocking, his lips curving up in a smirk. 

Duo smiled slightly, his eyes still lit up in awe. "I can't believe it. You're real." He reached a hand out and gently placed it on the angel's chest. He laughed softly and his eyes met the angel's. "Okay, so you don't have wings and you're a lot shorter than you were, but it…it's you, isn't it?"

The angel placed a hand over Duo's, then stepped back and turned around. "Mission accomplished." He twisted his shoulders and Duo watched in fascination as wings sprouted behind him and spread out, their width over ten feet from tip to tip.

"Wow," Duo managed, his breath feeling trapped in his chest. The angel was beautiful; his wings a perfect white, his eyes a deep blue that spoke of eons of knowledge, and a young body that exemplified strength and grace. 

As he watched, the angel sheathed his sword and took another step. It was then that Duo realized that the angel, his savior, was about to leave him. 

"That's it? You come down here, save me, and then leave again?" The angel paused and looked at him closely. Duo swallowed hard and looked away. "Never mind. I should have known that it was too good to be true." He turned away and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You'd best get going. Don't expect a teary goodbye, or anything. I'm fresh out of those."

Heero barely caught his next words, so quietly were they spoken.

"And of course, the unloved always get left."

Heero folded his wings, and then tucked them away, his face betraying his confusion in a frown. He had saved the boy, exactly what he had come to Earth to do. He tried to tell himself that it was enough, but there was an ache in his chest that was trying to make it known that something was still not right. It was with a sigh that he acknowledged that he still had work to do.

As Duo walked away from him, he shifted form. The sword shrank into a dagger at his side. His toga lengthened and separated into two pieces, changing colors as it became a blue shirt, and a pair of pants and a jacket made out of the same blue, jean material. The sandals that adorned his feet disappeared, only to be replaced with a pair of yellow sneakers.

His transformation complete, he approached Duo.

Duo thought he heard a sound and turned to find that his 'angel' still there. "Haven't left yet, huh? What're ya waiting around for? I'm not about to invite you to dinner, if that's what you're thinking. I don't like people who eat and run…or eat and fly, as the case may be."

When he was within three feet of Duo, Heero stopped and held out his hand. "Come with me?"

"To Heaven?" Duo asked, feeling at once hopeful and confused. The angel shook his head.

"I can not take you back there." He hesitated before continuing, "but I can not leave you here. There are other worlds where we may be together, and there is no reason for you to stay here any longer."

Duo looked around at the trampled churchyard and the charred remains of the little church, then at the broken pieces of the statue, before his gaze came back to rest on Heero's. After a second of searching the angel's eyes, he smiled and accepted the proffered hand.

"Really?" Duo asked, his face splitting up into a grin.

The once-angel nodded solemnly. "The unloved never leave each other."

~~~~~_____~~~~~

End note: this is only one version of this story that I'm posting. There will be another version, longer and with 2x5x2 instead of the 1x2x1.


End file.
